Better Man
by Aloemilk
Summary: Ron hasn't realised yet how great a man he is. Learning to know himself and grow confident for it is a journey he won't have to go on alone: Hermione will always go along. Fluff and confort all in one go.


"Are you ashamed of me?"

"What?"

Hermione either wasn't paying attention or she had actually not heard him clearly. She pleasantly sat on windowsill, her face hidden behind a book. Due to a lack of a better source, she was surely taking advantage of the light of the setting sun.

He'd noticed the room was dark, but didn't felt like pulling out his wand to turn the lights on. The dusk, after all, matched his mood and thoughts rather nicely.

"Are you ashamed of me?" he repeated.

He needed to know. As always in this kind of situation, he was glad they had that conversation a long time ago. Back then, they'd agreed to talk about everything–whether it be every day tidbits of life or their insecurities and hopes.

And now it was all about _his_ insecurities.

Back when they had been together for only a few months and had _that_ talk, she'd told him she was in love with him but felt too young to say she actually _loved_ him as in deep, adult love. He'd thought the distinction was rather barmy; he knew he truly loved her, and his age didn't have a thing to do with what he felt or how strong his feelings were. But he didn't really argue the point. He didn't want her to tell him again, in some kind of metaphor, how he was emotionally simple and immature. After all, she had actually told him what he'd needed to know then…... that they were very much into each other, and that what they had was important. They both loved each other, even if they didn't always understand what their love really meant.

She finally set the book down and over her knees, looking him in the eyes from across the room. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about you being ashamed of me. Well, are you?"

As if that had confirmed her initial idea of him being mentally unbalanced, she opened her eyes wider than they already were and her eyebrows shoot up. "Have I done _anything_ to give you that impression?"

He wondered that, too. He had tried to understand why he felt like he did. Ron had studied her as he sat in the room with her, looking at her bent shape, her hands graceful when she turned the pages or when tried to keep a lock of her hair out of the way. But he didn't come to any conclusion, and was only able to replay a few scenes over and over in his mind.

"I don't know... maybe? I mean, lately you've been telling everyone how I'm going to start spending less time at the store when the tougher Auror training begins, and I... well... why is that?"

"Why is what?"

"Just that, what I asked."

"Well, excuse me, Ronald, if I'm confused," she said in her haughty voice—the one she used when trying to be either imposing or when she was being challenged. It was also the tone she used when she started to get pissed.

Hermione marked her page on the book and set it aside deliberately. He knew her well enough to assume she was trying to stall and regain her patience. He didn't understand why she'd find it a silly question; he felt it was quite a fair one.

Still sitting on the windowsill, with her hands on her sides, she turned towards him and leaned forward a bit. It made her look as if she was ready to jump should the need arise, which made him go directly into defensive mode.

"What didn't you understand? You keep telling people that I'll eventually stop working with George as my Auror training starts to demand more and more time! You have this odd expression on your face when you tell people; it's as if working with my brother wasn't good enough. I was just wondering whether that meant you're ashamed of me, so I decided I'd ask you. We did promise we'd talk things out, remember?"

"Yes, we did." She sighed, pressing two fingers to the sides her forehead as if a headache was threatening to appear. He didn't like the look on her face.

"What I don't understand…" She paused as she got up and walked towards him. Then, she sat back down on the small table in front of him and continued, "…is why the fact that I'm _proud_ of you becoming an Auror means I'm ashamed of you?"

_That_ was something that had never crossed his mind. "Proud?"

"Yes, you git, _proud_. And I'm happy… really happy for you." Her voice sounded more upset than anything, but he wasn't going to interrupt her just yet. "I know that even though you like working with George, ever since Kingsley offered to get you into the training program _and_ after Harry said he needed some time before starting the program, what you _really_ wanted to do for a while now is to become an Auror."

She suddenly held her breath, as if deciding how to continue. When Ron noticed the way her eyes were looking at him, he couldn't help but hold his breath as well. Her gaze was so intense that it left him frozen, wondering what she was going to say next.

"I know you don't realize how great you are at everything you do. I guess it's my fault, too, because I hardly ever tell you how amazing you are. It's terrible of me, I know. I'm supposed to be your girlfriend, right? But instead of supporting and cheering you on, I'm always bickering with you and demanding things and nagging you."

Her hands were wriggling nervously, and Ron impulsively covered them with his own. He didn't know what else to do; he was too surprised by the turn the conversation had taken. He knew she was trying to hold back tears, her voice passionate and breaking after every few words. Something had taken hold of his throat, a fierce grip that only let a small amount of air to escape and no words to be spoken.

"But I swear, Ron, I am _not_ ashamed of you. I am _proud_ of you. And I'm terribly sorry you ever thought I wasn't."

He suddenly couldn't stand being so far away from her. Less than two feet apart was too long of a distance. He pulled on her hands and led her to sit on his lap, engulfing her with his arms as she laid her head on the crook of his shoulder and her hand upon his chest.

As he felt his shirt get wet with the lost battle against her tears, he could finally breathe.

"Hermione... you do a lot more besides nagging me." It was the first thing that had come into his mind, and she let out a small giggle. "You don't know how important it is to have you standing by me… especially when I need you… and you seem to know somehow, and you take my hand in yours like you want to remind me that you're always there for me. That's why I was getting upset thinking you might be ashamed of me, because I need you in my life. I need to know you'll always be here with me."

He felt the emotions gathering in his chest, getting away from his grasp. He wished he was better with words, so he could let her know everything that was inside him and all that she meant to him. No matter how many times, and in how many ways he'd tried to convey all of this and express it, he always felt like he came up short. Words never held the full meaning of their relationship or their love.

He could only hope to get better at it with the passing of time, and try to make her understand the scope of his feelings for her as best he could.

"You're right, I like working with George. It felt right being there with him and running the store after Fred died, trying to make it run smoothly again as our family tried to pick up the pieces. But yeah, I've always dreamed of becoming an Auror, even when I wasn't always ready to accept that it was what I wanted. When Kingsley offered Harry the option to begin the training program, I never expected he'd want me there too. Harry said he needed time, and that he'd feel better if we started the program together. So, he said he'd wait a bit, til' George didn't need me as much anymore, so we could both start the program at the same time. It's just... it's just that I'm not sure I deserve the attention, Hermione," he finished, his voice a near whisper.

She slapped his chest, making him jump a bit in surprise. "But you do! That was my point, Ron!" She rose and turned around so she could look him straight in the face. "Your magic is the strongest when you feel the need to protect someone, or during a fight, or when you need to solve problems by thinking out of the box. You think that's not important? You're a team player and charming and people oriented. I'm sure you could get the truth out of anyone without having to use your wand. _And_ I'm not the only one that thinks so as I'm certain everybody knows that. Kingsley knows that, and that's why he asked you to join the program. He knows you'd be a valuable asset with your abilities! You're someone they _need_. And Harry... he told you his reasons, don't you trust him?"

"It's just that I can't help but think—"

"Well, you're wrong," she interrupted, not waiting to know what else he had to say. "Honestly, you and Harry are a team. When he said he wanted you beside him to go through it all—he meant it. Why can't you believe in yourself, Ronald?"

Even as shocked as he was, he couldn't help but tease her. It was part of who they were as a couple. "You really love me, huh?" He kissed her quickly, hoping to distract her from her hopefully rhetorical question.

"Answer me, Ronald," she said, even as she kissed him back again.

Realizing that she wasn't going to be distracted, he sighed and rested his forehead on hers. "It's just... I never thought what I did was really all that important. All I did was be there, right?"

Her eyes softened as she looked at him again. "You did so much more, Ron. But the fact you don't take yourself seriously is one of the things that makes you so special… and frustrating, at times." She smiled. "Really, I thought you'd be more confident by now. I _promise_ I'll try to show you how great you are in the future, since what others see in you doesn't seem to be enough," Hermione finished solemnly.

He smiled at her, his chest full of pride and love. Ron kissed her, starting out by planting a soft kiss on her lips and then gradually deepening it.

"I don't care much about the rest of the world right now. You do make me feel special when I see myself through your eyes, Hermione." He caressed her face, now barely noticeable in the star lit room but ingrained in his mind. "I couldn't ask for anything more."

And as they hugged and kissed in the dark room, Ron allowed himself to be that man she said he was. If she could believe in him, then why couldn't he believe in himself too?

* * *

_A/N: __I__ just want to thank my pre-beta, missgranger2, for helping me out with this one when __I__ first wrote it. __I__ know it was a complete mess! _

_I__ also want to thank the great pili204. You know how grateful __I__ am for your work!_


End file.
